The Scouts of the Valley Part 39

"S'pose we'll light on that thar Seneca Castle by tomorrow night?" he asked.

"It seems to me that for a lazy and tired man you're extremely anxious for a fight," Henry replied.

"I try to be resigned," said s.h.i.+f'less Sol. But his eyes were sparkling with the light of battle.

They went into camp that night in a dense forest, with the Seneca Castle about ten miles ahead. Henry was quite sure that the Senecas to whom it belonged had not yet abandoned it, and with the aid of the other tribes might make a stand there. It was more than likely, too, that the Senecas had sharpshooters and sentinels well to the south of their town, and it behooved the riflemen to be extremely careful lest they run into a hornet's nest. Hence they lighted no fires, despite a cold night wind that searched them through until they wrapped themselves in their blankets.

The night settled down thick and dark, and the band lay close in the thickets. s.h.i.+f'less Sol was within a yard of Henry. He had observed his young leader's face closely that day, and he had a mind of uncommon penetration.

"Henry," he whispered, "you're hopin' that you'll find Braxton Wyatt an'

his band at Little Beard's town?"

"That among other things," replied Henry in a similar whisper.

"That first, and the others afterwards," persisted the s.h.i.+ftless one.

"It may be so," admitted Henry.

"I feel the same way you do," said s.h.i.+f'less Sol. "You see, we've knowed Braxton Wyatt a long time, an' it seems strange that one who started out a boy with you an' Paul could turn so black. An' think uv all the cruel things that he's done an' helped to do. I ain't hidin' my feelin's. I'm jest itchin' to git at him."

"Yes," said Henry, "I'd like for our band to have it out with his."

Henry and s.h.i.+f'less Sol, and in fact all of the five, slept that night, because Henry wished to be strong and vigorous for the following night, in view of an enterprise that he had in mind. The rosy Dutchman, Heemskerk, was in command of the guard, and he revolved continually about the camp with amazing ease, and with a footstep so light that it made no sound whatever. Now and then he came back in the thicket and looked down at the faces of the sleeping five from Kentucky. "Goot boys," he murmured to himself. "Brave boys, to stay here and help. May they go through all our battles and take no harm. The goot and great G.o.d often watches over the brave."

Mynheer Cornelius Heemskerk, native of Holland, but devoted to the new nation of which he had made himself a part, was a devout man, despite a life of danger and hards.h.i.+p. The people of the woods do not lose faith, and he looked up at the dark skies as if he found encouragement there.

Then he resumed his circle about the camp. He heard various noises-the hoot of an owl, the long whine of a wolf, and twice the footsteps of deer going down to the river to drink. But the sounds were all natural, made by the animals to which they belonged, and Heemskerk knew it.

Once or twice he went farther into the forest, but he found nothing to indicate the presence of a foe, and while he watched thus, and beat up the woods, the night pa.s.sed, eventless, away.

They went the next day much nearer to the Seneca Castle, and saw sure indications that it was still inhabited, as the Iroquois evidently were not aware of the swift advance of the riflemen. Henry had learned that this was one of the largest and strongest of all the Iroquois towns, containing between a hundred and two hundred wooden houses, and with a population likely to be swollen greatly by fugitives from the Iroquois towns already destroyed. The need of caution--great caution--was borne in upon him, and he paid good heed.

The riflemen sought another covert in the deep forest, now about three miles from Little Beard's Town, and lay there, while Henry, according to his plan, went forth at night with s.h.i.+f'less Sol and Tom Ross. He was resolved to find out more about this important town, and his enterprise was in full accord with his duties, chief among which was to save the vanguard of the army from ambush.

When the complete darkness of night had come, the three left the covert, and, after traveling a short distance through the forest, turned in toward the river. As the town lay on or near the river, Henry thought they might see some signs of Indian life on the stream, and from this they could proceed to discoveries.

But when they first saw the river it was desolate. Not a canoe was moving on its surface, and the three, keeping well in the undergrowth, followed the bank toward the town. But the forest soon ceased, and they came upon a great field, where the Senecas had raised corn, and where stalks, stripped of their ears and browned by the autumn cold, were still standing. But all the work of planting, tending, and reaping this great field, like all the other work in all the Iroquois fields, had been done by the Iroquois women, not by the warriors.

Beyond the field they saw fruit trees, and beyond these, faint lines of smoke, indicating the position of the great Seneca Castle. The dry cornstalks rustled mournfully as the wind blew across the field.

"The stalks will make a little shelter," said Henry, "and we must cross the field. We want to keep near the river."

"Lead on," said s.h.i.+f'less Sol.

They took a diagonal course, walking swiftly among the stalks and bearing back toward the river. They crossed the field without being observed, and came into a thick fringe of trees and undergrowth along the river. They moved cautiously in this shelter for a rod or two, and then the three, without word from any one of them, stopped simultaneously. They heard in the water the unmistakable ripple made by a paddle, and then the sound of several more. They crept to the edge of the bank and crouched down among the bushes. Then they saw a singular procession.

A half-dozen Iroquois canoes were moving slowly up the stream. They were in single file, and the first canoe was the largest. But the aspect of the little fleet was wholly different from that of an ordinary group of Iroquois war canoes. It was dark, somber, and funereal, and in every canoe, between the feet of the paddlers, lay a figure, stiff and impa.s.sive, the body of a chief slain in battle. It had all the appearance of a funeral procession, but the eyes of the three, as they roved over it, fastened on a figure in the first canoe, and, used as they were to the strange and curious, every one of them gave a start.

The figure was that of a woman, a wild and terrible creature, who half sat, half crouched in the canoe, looking steadily downward. Her long black hair fell in disordered ma.s.ses from her uncovered head. She wore a brilliant red dress with savage adornments, but it was stained and torn.

The woman's whole att.i.tude expressed grief, anger, and despair.

"Queen Esther!" whispered Henry. The other two nodded.

So horrifying had been the impression made upon him by this woman at Wyoming that he could not feel any pity for her now. The picture of the great war tomahawk cleaving the heads of bound prisoners was still too vivid. She had several sons, one or two of whom were slain in battle with the colonists, and the body that lay in the boat may have been one of them. Henry always believed that it was-but he still felt no pity.

As the file came nearer they heard her chanting a low song, and now she raised her face and tore at her black hair.

"They're goin' to land," whispered s.h.i.+f'less Sol.

The head of the file was turned toward the sh.o.r.e, and, as it approached, a group of warriors, led by Little Beard, the Seneca chief, appeared among the trees, coming forward to meet them. The three in their covert crouched closer, interested so intensely that they were prepared to brave the danger in order to remain. But the absorption of the Iroquois in what they were about to do favored the three scouts.

As the canoes touched the bank, Catharine Montour rose from her crouching position and uttered a long, piercing wail, so full of grief, rage, and despair that the three in the bushes shuddered. It was fiercer than the cry of a wolf, and it came back from the dark forest in terrifying echoes.

"It's not a woman, but a fiend," whispered Henry; and, as before, his comrades nodded in a.s.sent.

The woman stood erect, a tall and stalwart figure, but the beauty that had once caused her to be received in colonial capitals was long since gone. Her white half of blood had been submerged years ago in her Indian half, and there was nothing now about her to remind one of civilization or of the French Governor General of Canada who was said to have been her father.

The Iroquois stood respectfully before her. It was evident that she had lost none of her power among the Six Nations, a power proceeding partly from her force and partly from superst.i.tion. As the bodies were brought ash.o.r.e, one by one, and laid upon the ground, she uttered the long wailing cry again and again, and the others repeated it in a sort of chorus.

When the bodies-and Henry was sure that they must all be those of chiefs-were laid out, she tore her hair, sank down upon the ground, and began a chant, which Tom Ross was afterwards able to interpret roughly to the others. She sang:

The white men have come with the cannon and bayonet, Numerous as forest leaves the army has come.

Our warriors are driven like deer by the hunter, Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

Our towns are burned and our fields uprooted, Our people flee through the forest for their lives, The king who promised to help us comes not.

Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

The great chiefs are slain and their bodies lie here.

No longer will they lead the warriors in battle; No more will they drive the foe from the thicket.

Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

Scalps we have taken from all who hated us; None, but feared us in the days of our glory.

But the cannon and bayonet have taken our country; Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

She chanted many verses, but these were all that Tom Ross could ever remember or translate. But every verse ended with the melancholy refrain: "Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!" which the others also repeated in chorus. Then the warriors lifted up the bodies, and they moved in procession toward the town. The three watched them, but they did not rise until the funeral train had reached the fruit trees. Then they stood up, looked at one another, and breathed sighs of relief.

"I don't care ef I never see that woman ag'in," said s.h.i.+f'less Sol. "She gives me the creeps. She must be a witch huntin' for blood. She is sh.o.r.e to stir up the Iroquois in this town."

"That's true," said Henry, "but I mean to go nearer."

"Wa'al," said Tom Ross, "I reckon that if you mean it we mean it, too."

"There are certainly Tories in the town," said Henry, "and if we are seen we can probably pa.s.s for them. I'm bound to find out what's here."

"Still huntin' fur Braxton Wyatt," said s.h.i.+f'less Sol.

"I mean to know if he's here," said Henry.

"Lead on," said the s.h.i.+ftless one.

They followed in the path of the procession, which was now out of sight, and entered the orchard. From that point they saw the houses and great numbers of Indians, including squaws and children, gathered in the open s.p.a.ces, where the funeral train was pa.s.sing. Queen Esther still stalked at its head, but her chant was now taken up by many scores of voices, and the volume of sound penetrated far in the night. Henry yet relied upon the absorption of the Iroquois in this ceremonial to give him a chance for a good look through the town, and he and his comrades advanced with boldness.